


Who Would've Thought?

by nonbinaryaristotle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Pride and Prejudice (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Alternate Universe - Pride and Prejudice Fusion, Asian Pansy Parkinson, Black Hermione Granger, Black Lavender Brown, F/M, Gay Theodore Nott, Indian Harry Potter, Trans Ginny Weasley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-01-11 07:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18426243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbinaryaristotle/pseuds/nonbinaryaristotle
Summary: First impressions matter. Unless you can't stop thinking about her no matter what you do.First impressions don't matter. Unless he turns out to be an ass within the first hour of meeting him.Or: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger star in Pride and Prejudice because you know they would.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you have white-washing syndrome while reading as I sometimes do, please refer to Tumblr user upthehillart's drawings of all the Harry Potter kids! Their art is really what inspired me to write this since I finally had great images of the characters to grasp.

I pride myself on living a modest life. I’d rather sit and read a book than party, and I’d rather drink tea than chug a pint. We’re in the 1990s and as a woman of the age, I have the power to choose. And I choose to surround myself with fascinating women. My family is all I have since I’ve never been one to venture out and make friends. I always find some repulsive trait that cries out for me to distance myself from them. No, I’d rather stick to my small house in this small town with my three sisters and adoptive mother.

This isn’t to say I’m a spoil-sport or wet blanket. On the contrary. I think I’m quite fun and lively. Pansy and I can get lost in academic discussions until the wee hours! And Ginny takes me into the forest near our house almost every weekend to explore. I study the nature she disturbs as she tries to break her own climbing record! I’ve even allowed Lavender to try a few makeup looks on me during electrical blackouts where it was too dark to read by candlelight! See? I’m the fun sister.

Tonight is your run of the mill Saturday night in our household. Minerva, our matriarch, is grading papers at her desk in our sitting room. While Pansy and Lavender take turns plaiting each other's hair on our couch. Pansy takes the most care of all of us even though she’s the same age as both Lavender and me. I think it’s because she’s been here the longest. It’s Ginny’s turn to make supper so she’s been held up in the kitchen for nearly three hours. I’m sitting in our big, blue velvet armchair reading Shakespeare’s _Much Ado About Nothing_.

Poor Hero is just about to be wrongfully accused of being unfaithful when my ears pick up the most untrue set of words ever put together in the English vocabulary.

“It’s universal knowledge that a rich, single man is on the hunt for a wife.”

My eyebrows furrow as I look up. Pansy is humoring Lavender, again. Listening to her asinine opinions. I whip my head toward Minerva, my eyes pleading to stop her, somehow. I’m met with no response. She’d be no help, anyway. No one can ever rein Lavender in completely.

“Are they really? Do tell more.” Ginny’s voice comes wafting from the kitchen, after just being freshly dipped in sarcasm. I can’t stifle my laughter.

“Fine. Whatever. Die alone. See if I care.”

“Lavender, do you really think if we don’t marry rich, we’re going to die alone? What about marrying for love?” Pansy stops plaiting Lavender’s fool’s gold curls and seems like she’s trying to be firm. She fails because she hasn’t stopped smiling the whole time.

“ _You’ll_ be ok, Pans. You’re even-tempered and compassionate. Poor, unfortunate Hermione and Ginny, though? If they don’t change their attitudes or their fashion sense, no one will fall for them, rich or otherwise.”

I roll my eyes, “I could care less about bending to the whims of anyone. And these overalls happen to be in fashion as of late, so.”

“Yeah, what Hermione said, minus the part about her clothes. And also, sod off.”

“Girls.” That was the only thing Minerva had to say to diffuse any disagreement.

Minerva has always been tough but fair. She started this small foster family back when Pansy was barely born. She was left at a police station and when the local orphanage didn’t have enough room for her, Minerva offered to raise the child. Trying to give her all the happiness she could by naming her Pansy. I showed up a couple of years after that when my parents died of drug overdoses. Minerva told me that I was the one who found them and called 999. I was only three-years-old at the time so I can’t fully remember. Ginny arrived a month after me when her home burnt to the ground a few towns over. They’ve become my family and I’ve grown to love and protect them like they were blood. We never fought about much or did more than annoy each other. That dynamic changed, however, when Lavender came to live with us.

She’d already lived ten years of her life with a family until they abandoned her. She was a police station drop off, like Pansy, but she had a strict cousin with eight other children who claimed her. When she stopped serving her purpose, she was thrown out. Minerva suspected some sort of abuse but only said as much to warn us about saying the wrong thing to the recovering girl. I thought it best to leave her alone so my relationship with Lavender was never solidified the way it was with Pansy or Ginny.

“I’ll save the lecture of apologizing to each other because I’m afraid I raised four very strong-willed women. Why don’t you three set the table, I do believe Ginevra is almost done with dinner.” She dotted her paper with a matter-of-fact air.

Lavender, with newly plaited hair, flounced into the kitchen while sticking her tongue out at me. Followed closely by Pansy who shook her head with a smile. I returned to the play. I want to finish this scene before–

“Now, Hermione.”

Being as dramatic as possible, I closed my book and slid off the chair, kissing Minerva on the cheek before I entered the kitchen.

***

“Have you given any thought to what you’d like to major in next year, Lavender?” Minerva nonchalantly asks. Pansy took a shining to chemistry and attends a small university-like establishment, while I’m in a gap year because I could never pinpoint exactly what I wanted out of my future. I know I love books, but I don’t think becoming an English professor would be enough.

Lavender scoffs, “Aunt Minerva, please. I don’t plan on going to university! I’m going to wait for a charming, rich man to sweep me off my feet! My future will be in being his wife.”

I’m about to open my mouth to say what a stupid idea that is when Minerva cuts me off.

“Well, a little schooling wouldn’t hurt. Who knows, your rich future husband might be wanting to further his learning. And how would you meet him if you’re here?” Minerva knew how to coerce her children into doing what she wanted them to do.

“I wouldn’t be here! I’d be about the town. Get a job in a bar or a high-end restaurant where there’ll be lots of men.”

“My, you’ve thought this through.”

“Maybe you can work somewhere with yummy food!” Pansy, being ever so supportive, offers.

“What about you, Ginevra? Maybe a culinary school?” Minerva refocuses on her youngest.

Ginny is agape for a few moments before answering, “Auntie McGee, with all due respect, I burn ice. If this wasn’t a slow cooker recipe, we’d all be having sandwiches for supper!”

“You’re so adventurous! I think whatever you pursue, it should be exciting!” It’s not lost on me that Pansy would rather comment on this part of the conversation and not Ginny’s lack of cooking skills.

“Stunt-woman to the stars! Professional tree climber...to the stars,” Ginny spit-balls while trying to eat this stew. “But enough about my future prospects, please. We have a dinner we need to dump down the drain!” She’s up and grabbing the pot before Minerva can stop her.

Halfway through our second supper of sandwiches, there’s a knock on the door. Lavender visibly tenses up as Minerva quickly rises from her chair and heads toward the hallway, muttering something like “We have a bell for a reason.”.

I’ve never been one to keep my mouth shut when I have something I want to say, “You can’t be serious about not going to university, Lavender! You’re so bright! It’d be an insult to your intelligence if you spent your days flirting with drunks and uninterested customers!”

“Hermione, you always forget I don’t want your opinion. This is my life and I’m going to do what I want with it. At least I have a future planned.”

“Lav, that wasn’t very nice…”

“It’s ok, Pansy. Sticks and stones. I know Lavender and I are different. No matter how much I try to make her see past her giant plastic earrings.”

Lavender starts coughing out words like “pretentious” and “know-it-all” until Minerva enters back, followed by three young men.

Three very stunning, very here men. I’m sure other girls would be mortified to be seen by men in what Lavender lovingly calls my automobile mechanic getup but I’m more uncomfortable at the prospect of conversing with these strangers to care.

“Girls. I’d like you to meet two former students of mine, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. And their associate, Draco Malfoy.” She gestured to each man in turn. Blaise, the beautiful looking black man, tipped his head forward while meeting everyone’s eyes. His geometric knitted sweater was a little distracting to my eyes. He glanced at Pansy twice. Theodore, the one with dark hair, gave a three finger wave. He had the tightest acid wash jeans I’ve ever seen on a man with was also distracting. And Draco, who almost looked snow white in every feature, stared straight forward in a bored fashion. He’s wearing a suit so I’m wondering where they picked this guy up from.

“These are my daughters; Pansy Parkinson, Hermione Granger, Lavender Brown, and Ginevra Weasley.” I try my best to smile at all three men and it’s easy enough until I lay my eyes on Draco Malfoy, who promptly looks back for 0.0001 seconds before deciding the wall behind me is better. What an impolite man. He could’ve at least smiled back out of courtesy.

“Would you care to take a seat and join us for dinner, boys? I would love her hear about what you’ve been up to since you graduated, Mr. Zabini!” Usually, this would be the part where I politely excuse myself but there’s something about the dynamic of these three men that entices me.

“We couldn’t possibly, Professor, but thank you. As I said at the door, we were on our way to grab a drink and I wanted to know if you still lived here. I still don’t quite know what possessed me to do so, but thank you so much for the hospitality all the same.” Blaise’s eyes kept turning toward Pansy whose blush you could see from space. He’s far too polite to be in the company of a marble statue and a scoundrel who’s all but dragging him out of our kitchen.

“Been a pleasure, lasses. But, we really must be going.”

“Hold on there, Pretty Boy. I was just stepping out myself. I’ll join you!” Lavender is out of her chair with her dishes in the sink before Minerva has her arm.

“Were you now?” Suspicious eyes met pleading, “Hermione? Were you planning on going with Lavender?”

This was a test. Minerva used this tactic whenever Lavender insisted on doing something she found reckless. Usually, I say you couldn’t pay me enough to do anything Lavender finds fun, and then she would pout or scream about how unfair she was being treated. Minerva knows how I feel about Lavender’s actions and uses it to keep her in check. But, tonight felt different. Think of it as an apology for butting into her future plans.

“As a matter of fact, Minerva, I was.”

You could hear a pin drop. The smallest pin you could imagine. The eyes of my family were trained on me. Mouths agape. The men long forgotten in the hallway but still within earshot. “We all were, actually.” More shock and awe from the women. “Super sorry for the short notice but we’ve decided to humor young Lavender hours ago. Give her some fresh air.”

You’d think I just said I wouldn’t care if everyone in this kitchen died gruesomely. I slowly got up and placed my dishes on top of Lavenders in the sink. I turned back toward the women after I rinsed my plate. It was like a painting, a complete stillness.

“Well, come on. Chop, chop! We can’t keep our surprise guests waiting much longer. I suspect one of them will die if he doesn’t enter a pub right this instant.” I definitely said that last sentence quiet enough for it to be lost within the sounds of chairs scraping.

***

After a few minutes of shuffling in silence, all seven young adults stood awkwardly outside our home. I turned to the men.

“Terribly sorry for intruding on your Boys’ Night. That definitely wasn’t my plan for the evening.” I send Lavender a hard look before smiling pointedly at Blaise.

“No need to apologize, um, Hermione, is it? I really don’t mind the extra company. Now, shall we?” Blaise was absolutely the father of this group. So polite and well-behaved. Although, he did just leave me to walk alongside Pansy as soon as his sentence was finished. Hmm.

I waited until everyone passed before falling to step next to Ginny.

“Are you ill? I know you’re not a total stick in the mud but this particular situation sounds very out of character.” Ginny whispered through gritted teeth.

“If I do this one thing for Lavender, she might leave me alone for a while. I do tire of her verbal abuse, Gin.”

“I know. I do, too. But we don’t even know these guys. No matter how nice looking they are. Those are the most dangerous ones, I hear.” We both started giggling quietly. I’m not scared of Prince Charming and his companions, Mr. Nott Interested and Mr. Really Not Interested.

Before we knew it, we arrived at the only pub/club in our small town. It was dingy and only housed the employees and regulars. The music playing had an upbeat tempo but the lyrics were really sad, probably under the request of some poor sod missing his wife. Blaise opened a tab and made sure everyone had some sort of beverage, all while keeping conversation with Pansy. He sat beside her at a small table that’s tucked away from everything. Lavender somehow got the bartender to change the music and pulled both Ginny and Theodore onto the dancefloor. I sat on a bar stool monitoring everyone. Draco sat a few feet away from me and by the second song I couldn’t help myself. I’ve always liked a challenge.

Downing my non-alcoholic drink in an act I’ve seen in many movies, I made my way to him. His back was to the dancefloor and he didn’t act as if he noticed me when I walked up.

“Hello.” I did my best to speak over the music.

“Evening.” His voice wasn’t as deep as I thought. Although, he didn’t sound pleasant either.

I pressed on for some reason, “I was about to go dance with our friends out there. Care to join me in joining them?”

“Do I look like I want to dance?” What a killjoy.

“No. Definitely not.”

“Then why’d you even ask?” His eyes dart sideways and his left leg starts jiggling.

“Obligation to the atmosphere, mostly. Other than that, I’m not really sure! Enjoy your stool!” I turned away and made a beeline to Ginny, trying hard not to laugh as I grabbed her by her waist.

“Hello to you too, Hermione!” Ginny’s quizzical brow betrayed her giant grin.

“You’ll never guess what I just did!” I yelled into her ear.

“Something scandalous, I’m sure. You’re on a roll, tonight.”

I shook my head and didn’t answer. Only laughed as the music took me. Man, I’m being so daring tonight, so out of my element. Agreeing to Lavender’s scheme? Asking a man to dance? A far cry from the girl I’ve grown accustomed to being. After a few songs, or maybe it was just one, bored Theodore slipped away to the bar, sitting next to Mr. Buzzkill. No one could stop Lavender from following him but she did sit a few seats away and started flirting with the bartender.

“Now will you share with the class?” Ginny twirled me out and then back in.

“I asked– I can’t even say it without laughing, Gin! I went up to the marble statue and asked it to dance!”

“The marble stat– Oh! You mean Malfoy! Good for you! Someone needs to loosen him up.”

I shriek as we spun together. I haven’t had fun like this in ages. The euphoria of my decisions and the placebo effect of my mocktail warmed me twice over. A few more songs pass, or, again, maybe just one, who knows with music these days, Ginny and I walk hand-in-hand toward the bar to find Pansy sitting with Lavender.

“Where’d your conversation partner scurry off to?” I gently touch Pansy’s back in a soothing way, just in case I was going to hear anything unsavory.

“Blaise went outside with Theo and Draco.” Her smile so delicate when saying his name.

“They went for a smoke break.” Lavender signals the bartender for another drink and I become my usual self.

“They smoke? Eugh, what a turnoff. And another thing, Lavender, I think you’re done. What number would that be? Four?”

“Party. Pooper.” She grabs the drink as it slides toward her and gulps it down before I can lunge for it.

“Honestly? I’m the whole reason we could be here tonight and this is how you repay me? By being totally irresponsible!”

Lavender sticks her middle finger straight in the air and waves it around my face. She was kind of a mean drunk, it would seem.

“All right, Hermione. Come on, let’s get some air. If Lavender turns up dead, you can’t be the number one suspect.” Ginny grabs my arm and tugs hard to get me moving. I’m pushed out of the nearest exit and into the chill of the night. She makes me sit down near the door while she leans against the brick wall.

The wonderful thing about our friendship and sisterhood was that we knew when to talk and when to stay silent. The silence was good at this moment for two reasons: I was seething, and because we could hear the men talking just around the corner.

“–if you went out there and danced, you wouldn’t look so stupid just sitting at the bar all night.”

“Like you are, Zabini? Talking Peony’s ear off. And, you know how I hate dancing.”

“It’s Pansy.” Almost a sigh. “Anyway, all those girls are very pretty! Just choose one, Draco. Aren’t I right, Theo?”

I heard a coughing fit and then, “Yeah, whatever you say, Blaise.”

“Your girl is the only attractive one of the bunch.”

“She is something precious to behold. Simply beautiful. Um, but Hermione is quite pleasant on the eyes as well.”

Silence and then, “Tolerable, yes. But not enough to turn my head twice.”

Unbelievable. Judgemental git.

“Better get back to your flower then, Blaise. I’ll stay with the lost cause.”

I jump up just as Ginny yanks open the door and we’re inside in seconds. Panting, we share a look.

“Don’t listen to that git. Needs glasses. And a brain.”

“I hadn’t realized how deadly the combination of me existing and asking him to dance was. Poor guy. Must have given him a heart attack. Oh, wait! He doesn’t have one to attack.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna punch him the next time I see him.” The fact that Ginny can say this stuff in a calm manner has always worried me.

“You don’t want to touch him. A plague might descend upon our house!”

***

Blaise returned to Pansy’s side and gestured to the dancefloor. She blushed and nodded slightly before he took her hand and lead her away from the bar.

I have my first real drink of the night and gulp it down just as Nott and Malfoy reenter. I grab Ginny’s arm to stop her from keeping her word. I feel their presence sitting closer to me than I thought they dared. The nerve of men! They say whatever they want in private and act like you don’t repulse them while in their company. My thoughts are interrupted by Lavender’s voice carrying over the music, yelling Pansy’s praises at Blaise.

“ISN’T OUR PANSY JUST THE MOST BEAUTIFUL ONE HERE, BLAISE?”

Pansy looks like she accidentally came to school in her underwear. Her body language changed subtly. She shook her head from left to right while Blaise nods up and down.

“SHE’S SO PRETTY, SHE HAD ALL THE BOYS IN SCHOOL FIGHTING OVER WHO WOULD GIVE HER THE BEST VALENTINE!”

“And she never dated any of them so look at how well that turned out,” I said mostly to Ginny but loud enough to hear myself over the music.

“I thought women liked to be wooed with gooey words and mementos.”

My body tensed. Was the alcohol getting to me or was The Great Malfoy actually trying to engage me in conversation? And what does he mean by “women”? He can’t be lumping all of us into one entire unit who acts the same. That’d be stupid. What a stupid man.

“If the relationship is well and established. If men knew their partner well enough to know whether or not she even likes to hear those things, then yes. Women will be wooed with gooey words and mementos.” I sneered.

“And if he doesn’t know her well?”

“I’d try some decent conversation. But, if you can’t manage your tongue properly, dancing would do the trick. Even if she is only tolerable, she might make you look twice.”

I so wish I’d turned to see his face before I stormed off to collect everyone and head home. I would’ve loved to have seen something other than indifference etched into his pointed features.


	2. PART 2

I pride myself on living a modest life. I much prefer keeping to myself than going out of my way to help somebody. I’ve had to take care of myself for a long time so I expect the people I let around me to be independently sound.

But I’m not an arsehole. On the contrary, I’m quite good company if I deem your presence worthy of it. That is to say that I’m quite picky with who I spend my time with. I’ve been on the receiving end of one too many backstabbings to not take precaution. That’s why my only friend is a person I’ve known for a few years. And even that feels suffocating. But try as I might to shut Blaise out, he’s really good at staying my friend.

I’m exasperated from the night’s festivities as I follow Blaise up the stairs to our between-flats-flat while he carries a completely pissed Theo. He tried to lean on me but it’s not my job to parent a grown man. I have the key so I let us all in. Blaise lay Theo down on the one couch that came with the place and heads toward the kitchen to get him a glass of water.

“You baby him too much. I know he’s more than a business partner to you but you act more like parent and child than associates.” I tire of having to be patient with the people Blaise lets into his orbit.

“You’re right. He’s more than a partner, he’s my brother. Just like you. And I take care of my own.” Blaise sets the glass down and covers Theo with a blanket.

“Oh, sod off, you cheesy git.” But I’m smiling at how ridiculous he sounds. He’s the type who thinks strangers are just friends you haven’t properly met, yet.

“Never. You know you love me just as I am.” And he’s smiling back as he stands to head to the bedroom.

THE bedroom. As in, there’s only one. The question of why the landlady rented such a cramped space to three men could only be answered by the amount of money we all possess. And the question of why we’re in this cramped space even though our cup runneth over can be answered geographically. Blaise and Theo’s fathers are planning on building upon their empire and have asked them to scout it out. I am here because I’m potentially investing.

“You’re actually a pain in my arse but come to any conclusion you wish, Zabini.”

“I’m taking the left side tonight. We’ll rotate each night until this errand of ours is over–”

I audibly sigh. I didn’t sign up for this kind of comradery and kinship when I offered my services. Curse me for wanting to be thorough when it comes to using my late father’s money. I won’t squander it on frivolous notions or projects. I want to preserve the notability of his name by never doing anything that could drag it in the mud.

We’re settled in bed and I’m finally beginning to drift off when Blaise softly speaks.

“Pansy was really something, wasn’t she? Kind, gracious, poised, agreeable–”

“And poor, Zabini.”

“You know I’ve never cared about the social standing of the women I’m interested in, Draco.”

“And you know I think you should. The amount of women you’ve dated since I’ve met you is astounding. You roll over far too soon.”

“I’m very easily charmed, I know. But Pansy’s different. I can feel it.”

“Sure, sure. I’ll keep that in mind within the month.”

“You’re so quick to critique and I can’t wait until you meet someone who makes you think twice.”

“Aw, but I’ll never meet such a woman. I shall die cold and alone, like my father before me.”

“Poor Luna, I suppose.”

“Not poor, rich! I entrust my dear sister to spend all the money on useless things like constellation maps and interesting clothing items. But I will be too dead to care to stop her.”

“Are you implying there’s a level of death where you could stop her?”

“No, of course not. Are you daft?”

“Answer me this before I let you sleep off your delirium. Do you think Pansy likes me back?”

“I think you’re the only one of us she talked to all evening. Before her bushy-haired sister pulled her away, of course.”

“Don’t act like you can’t remember her name. I know you lied when you said she wasn’t attractive, Draco. You forget how well I know you.”

“You know me so well but have you failed to notice that every time I even so much as mention a woman in a flattering light, Nott goes off the rails and makes it his mission to remove her from my sight? I dislike the temperament of Hermione greatly but I’d never expose her to Nott’s antics.”

Blaise springs up and I feel him turn toward me.

“Oh my God, Draco. You’ve already gone soft. You’ve met the girl who changes everything! Oh, happy day!”

“Shush! Dear Lord, man. Show some dignity for once in your life!”

“So, when’s the wedding? Can I be your Best Man? Can the colors be green and silver? Can we get–”

I shove Blaise back down into the laying position and cover his mouth.

“Do you forget my assessment of her sister? Hermione is as poor as your dear Pansy. And I already know she heard what I passively said about her behind the building. No, I daresay I’ll never see her again.”

***

While we’re inspecting the construction sight Blaise sneaks off to a pay phone to call his beloved. I swear, if he prolongs this business trip because of some woman, I won’t give him a cent of his asking investment price.

“Your suit looks right at home with that safety vest and hat, Draco.”

“Enough with the pleasantries, Nott, and read this blueprint over. Are you sure this is exactly how we want it to look?”

“Gentlemen, lads! I have a second date with the beautiful Miss Pansy Parkinson!”

“Very well, Zabini. Can you look over this blueprint with us?”

“Draco, Draco. You rarely let me finish my thoughts. Such a disagreeable man. Anyhow, I’m to ask a favor of you. Would either of you be so kind as to accompany me on my date–”

“Zabini! Do you really think I’d want to–”

“–since Pansy has already promised her night to Hermione? She doesn’t want to go back on her word to her sister! Isn’t she the kindest woman?”

Theo rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“To spend an evening with Hermione Granger would be suicide! What a horrid woman!”

“How could you possibly know that, Nott?”

“That Lavender girl wouldn’t stop talking about how unforgiving and boring she is! You can barely get a sentence in before she passes judgment.”

That sounds true to form from what I’ve experienced with her but she was kind enough to try and include me in the festivities. She was barking up the wrong tree but solid effort.

“If either of you truly loved me, you would agree to this! My future is nestled in your generous hands, my boys.”

“If you think for one second that your guilt trips–”

“Fine! Fine. I’ll go. If only to stop this idiotic conversation and get one of you, who claims to know what they’re doing, to look. at. this. blue. print!”

***

“Look at you all dressed up for your double date with Blaise, tonight.” Theo teases from the kitchen but his tone is a little biting.

“I’m dressed like this because I only packed suits. This was supposed to be a business trip but Zabini just had to go and fall in love with the first girl he saw. Such distractions are unneeded...” I’m muttering to myself at this point while fiddling with my tie. I might just lose it altogether.

“Here, let me help,” Theo’s in front of me with his hands near my neck before his sentence is completed. “You’re really not a fan of dating, are you? Or is it just women who you find repulsive?”

I’m unable to answer as the door is pushed open by Blaise leading in a pleasantly dressed Pansy and a denim-clad Hermione. I will not scoff because I know that’s incredibly rude, but even the grace of a thousand tiny snowflakes dusting her hair and making it look like a clear night sky can’t distract me from how out of place her outfit is. She basically wore the same thing the other night. The sheer disrespect of that decision is astounding. Theo’s already back in the kitchen as if he was never near me.

“Draco, it’s snowing!” Blaise is beaming as he chuckles, reaching up to Pansy’s hair to brush the snow away. Her body looks a little tense, almost like his touch is unwanted. Her face hides a small, polite smile.

“I’ve deduced as much, Zabini. You look a mess.”

And just like that, the smile holding up Hermione’s slightly rosy cheeks falls.

“We’re terribly sorry for intruding on your precious night, Malfoy. Blaise mentioned you were a busy man so I expected it would be Theo that tagged along.”

“Nice dinner dates aren’t my scene. And by the look of your clothes, Hermione, it doesn’t look like yours either. The vibe of this little double date is so inconsistent. Anyway, have fun and be safe, children! I’m off on an adventure of my own!”

Blaise locks the door before Theo can reach it.

“Actually, no one is going anywhere. That snow is only going to get worse so I would prefer if no one got stranded anywhere but here until it stops. A thousand apologies, Pansy and Hermione, for holding you hostage for the foreseeable future.”

Both girls look like deers in the headlights.

***

I’ve never been good at conversations with people I’ve just met. I was raised to be a socialite but with my father not here to whisper what to say in my ear, I’ve got nothing. I clam up when I’m unprepared. As such, I’m better suited to the paperwork and number side of any business. I assume I can continue my work since this asinine double date idea crashed into a snowbank.

Blaise tries his best to bring us all into a rousing game of cards but Pansy is the only one mildly interested in sitting on the floor around the coffee table. Theo is making three boxes of macaroni and cheese upon Blaise’s request. You don’t want to know what transpired when Theo suggested one of our guests do it instead. Hermione has been reading a novel she pulled from her purse the moment she settled on the couch. She’s calmed down some since Theo misspoke and we’re all sitting in an almost symbiotic silence. The kind of silence I used to crave while living with my sister, Luna.

My home life would’ve been incredibly empty if not for Luna. My Father adopted her when she was just a newborn when her family, some distant cousin of mine, abandoned her. I was only a year old at the time so I’ve never known an existence without her. We look enough alike that no one thought a thing. My Mother was never as social as my Father wanted her to be so a secret pregnancy was plausible for them and the media presented it as such.

She’s the Fox Mulder to my Dana Scully in every way. One of my worries when coming along on this trip was leaving her alone for an undetermined amount of time. She’s more than capable of taking care of herself but now that I’m all she has, it’s hard to let go of our routine.

“You write ridiculously fast, Draco.”

“Compared to whom, Nott?”

“Well, me, of course. You contribute to so many contracts and paperwork, I wouldn’t be able to keep up!”

“It’s a good thing it’s my responsibility, then.”

“How’s your dear sister, Draco? Do you have any twos, Pans? Why isn’t she here to oversee the design process?”

“We have to make certain there’s going to be a building to decorate before I drag her away from school,” I’m quite famous for my dry wit and flatly delivering one-liners, “but, I can mention you in my letter if you want to see her so badly.”

“No need. I must say, you two are so accomplished for being the age you are. I’ve met Luna just the once but she’s quite an accomplished young woman. Do you have any sevens?”

“I daresay I am quite proud of her for all that she’s turned out to be. I can’t think of even six women who could stand in the same category as her.”

“Well, damn, Malfoy! You must have a rather strong opinion on the subject.”

I’d nearly forgotten Hermione was in the room. I’ve hardly looked up from my letter and just sat here bantering away with Blaise like I wasn’t in mixed company. I place my pen down and straighten up in my desk chair, turning my head toward her.

“I suppose I do, Miss Granger.”

“Alright then, give us your list. What does the Perfect Woman need to impress you?” Hermione’s eyes are piercing through me in a concentrated way.

“Um, well, she should have been at the top of her class in all subjects at school. Uh, able to hold interesting conversations, keep a house if needed, and perhaps, having a hobby such as reading would make a well-rounded woman in my eyes.”

Hermione closes her book and turns toward me, “And you say you know roughly six women of this stature? I’m quite sure you don’t know anyone like this.”

“Why are you so severe on your own gender?”

“I would never generalize women in such a way. I also have never met any person fitting your description. If they existed, they’d be some sort of modern legend.”

Pansy turns ever so slightly toward Hermione and whispers, “But, ‘Mione, you’ve done or are doing all of those things.”

Hermione appears to have not heard her. She continues to face me head on like she’s challenging me. Her brown eyes look like heated coals just waiting for that final spark to light them up. Hermione and I hold our eye contact for what seems like ages before I turn away first. There’s absolutely nothing I can add to build the conversation up further. Her tongue clicks impatiently.

“GOD! I’m so bored!” I hear Theo cry from the kitchen. It doesn’t smell like the food is done but he’s already lying in the space between my desk and the couch by the time his sentence is punctuated.

“Pansy, I hate to ask, but would you please assist me in continuing dinner?”

She must nod her head approvingly because soft giggles can be heard from the kitchen within the minute. Maybe I can get back to my letter and finish up so I can leave the room. _Your brother, Draco Malfoy._

“Tell me, Draco, why don’t you date?”

If there was a record player playing, it would’ve scratched to a halt at the moment Theo opened his giant mouth. If he wasn’t Blaise’s business partner I swear to God.

“What difference would my answer make, Nott?”

“What does that mean?”

“I think the best way to annoy him is to not inquire further.”

She is the exact person I didn’t want to be in the same room as this conversation for fear of her biting wit. I have a headache.

“Nevermind her. Tell me.”

“I mean, whether or not I’m in the dating scene is only a concern for someone who wishes to date me. My dating life should be of little consequence to every person in this room. Your question should’ve never been brought up.”

Hermione scoffs from behind her book. Blaise laughs at her small outburst.

“I wouldn’t laugh at him if I were you.”

She brings her book down, “Are you too proud, Malfoy? And isn’t that a fault?”

“That I couldn’t say.”

“Oh, but I’m trying to find a fault in you.”

We are too much alike, her and I. Actively trying to find a fault in someone you barely know. That sort of self-destructive behavior I’ve never seen in anyone but myself.

“Perhaps it’s that I find it hard to forgive the recklessness and indecency of others, or what they’ve done to me. Once my good opinion turns sour, it stays sour.”

Try that on for size, Hermione. Does that sound familiar?

Her hard stare softens a millimeters amount, “It’s a shame I can’t tease you about that since I love to laugh.”

“A family trait, I’ve found.”

“Hey Blaise, we really don’t need your background flirting right now.”

Can anyone else feel the electricity in this room?

***

I rarely have dreams when I sleep. I rarely have anything on my mind before I go to bed so maybe that’s why. My body and my brain are getting their fair share of unrest tonight as I try to fall asleep on the cold floor of the living room. Theo didn’t even fight for the couch like I thought he would but sharing a blanket with him is vastly different from sharing with Blaise. He’s closer than he needs to be and I’m feeling so claustrophobic.

I detest the snow. I detest the events that transpired because of the location we’re currently in. I should’ve never been on this business trip. I should be home, falling asleep while reading in front of my massive fireplace. I should be none the wiser of anything about this town and its occupants.

Reading. Now that’s something I could be doing since my mind can’t cease and Theo’s knee is jabbing into my side. Quiet as a mouse I’m up and padding through the flat. Just as I’m about to sneak into my own room, I notice Hermione’s purse sitting just outside the door. Her book lay on top. _Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare._ I scoff audibly. This woman, who seems to want to shut me out before she even attempts to open the door, has a soft spot for the most romantic story of our time?

I try the knob and it’s locked. What a metaphor. I glance down at the paperback again. No harm is done if I borrow, right? There’s a torch in one of the drawers in the kitchen so I grab that before I settle on the counter with the stolen play.

It’s hard to not notice how well-loved this edition is. Folded corners and notes are written in most of the margins. Almost like this was studied more than enjoyed. Reading her comments makes this story feel more alive and urgent. I’m experiencing way more than Shakespeare probably wanted me to. I’m so engulfed in their words that I don’t even notice the sunrise. Or the bedroom door open.

“What are you doing with my book?”

It’s a harsh whisper and I’m barely able to look up before my right hand is empty.

“My apologies, Miss Granger. I couldn’t sleep and the bedroom door was locked,”

“So, you were trying to get into a room where two women were sleeping?”

“No, no! I mean, yes, but on every other night besides tonight it’s my room and holds my reading material. I apologize if I intruded on your privacy.”

Hermione’s hair looks much wilder in the early morning. She refused to borrow any of our sleep clothes so her jeans and jumper look disheveled like she’d been in a fight. Mascara is smudged under her eyes but I never took her for a makeup wearer in the first place so that’s a surprise.

“Yeah, OK. Whatever. It’s fine.”

She hesitates before she slowly turns to place her book back where I found it.

“Oh, um, Miss Granger. One last thing, I never would’ve noticed the bond between Mercutio and Benvolio. Your notes seemed completely out of nowhere.”

“Then I guess you didn’t read the text properly the first time, Malfoy.”

Still a bite but when heard in a whispered tone, it could almost sound playful.

 


	3. PART 3

Being offended and flattered simultaneously is such a bizarre feeling. On the one hand, I’m close to fuming because this entitled jack off rummaged through my belongings on the basis of “needing reading materials”. But on the other hand, I’m a sucker for academically charged compliments.

If he took his head out of his arse for the span of one conversation, I’m sure we’d get on. He seems plenty intelligent and of sound mind, not that I’d ever tell him to his face. I guess you could say I’m a little disappointed he’s such a git. A sexist, pompous, ego-maniac.

And, why do I have to keep interacting with the business partner of Pansy’s boyfriend, anyway? What do we gain from getting under each other’s skin? His almost porcelain white skin with the center-part hair to match. I wonder if during the Summer his cheeks will rosy up a bit.

Copious amount of thunderous stomps on the stairs up to the flat door pull me from my polarizing thoughts. There are five bangs on the door before Malfoy can reach it, barely looking through the peephole before flinging it open.

“Oh! Good morning, Mr. Malfoy-”

“ARE PANSY AND HERMIONE HERE?”

Lavender pushes past Malfoy and makes a beeline toward me as soon as our eyes meet. I rarely get physical with Lavender. She’s not a fan of being touched unless she initiates it and I’m not a giant hugger, anyway.

“God, I was so worried–,” she pulls back just quick as she came. Lavender’s hushed tone sounds like she was holding her breath all night. “Did they hurt you at all?”

“Of course not. I’d never let them.”

“You can say that but you can’t tell the future. It would’ve been three against two.”

“I can guarantee you, Lavender, that no harm will ever come to either of your sisters while I’m around.”

Blaise had his blanket wrapped around his shoulders and was walking a drowsy Theo past them and into the room Pansy vacated when all the commotion started. He and Pansy shared a small smile as he drew near. The motion alerted Lavender to Pansy’s presence and attacked her in a much longer hug of her own.

“I’m deeply sorry for any offense taken by Lavender’s concerns, Mr. Zabini, but I daresay I was equally as worried. A mother always is. Thank you for leaving your address when you came to pick the girls up. I am under the impression this isn’t your permanent residence but looking into a telephone wouldn’t be the worst idea.”

“You’re completely right, Professor. I should’ve tried more urgently to get ahold of you. I confess it was the pure excitement of getting to spend an extended evening with your Pansy that swayed my actions.”

“BLAISE, QUIT KISSING HER ARSE!”

Blaise quickly shut the door while chuckling, “Theo gets a bit cranky in the mornings, please excuse him.”

“Mr. Nott’s outburst aside, Mr. Zabini, thank you kindly for housing my girls for the night but I would feel much better if they came home.”

“Get your things together, Hermione,” Pansy was the eldest when it came to following rules. She was meticulous about following Minerva’s directions down to a T. “Thank you for your hospitality, Blaise, Draco, and you too, Theo,” she called toward the door.

Blaise brings her hand to his lips for a feather soft kiss.

“May I call you again? Once I get a proper phone, of course.”

“You may.”

The next few minutes play out silently as I rustle around for everything I brought with me. Blaise scoops up Pansy’s belongings for her while Lavender clings to Pansy’s arm. Ginny is waiting with Minerva at the door and takes my hand.

Blaise tries to offer us a ride but Pansy touches his arm lightly and says he’s done enough. He settles by waving goofily at us from the doorway.

Our only car is small but holds everyone comfortably enough. A far cry from the rental Blaise picked us up in. Lavender kept blabbing on about how “rich” those three boys were but everyone has more money than us so I didn’t think much of it. Lavender insisted on sitting next to Pansy in the back, so I’m in the passenger seat up front while Ginny is directly behind me.

“What an adventure that was, am I right?” Ginny tugs one of my curls lightly.

“Please, Ginevra, it’s very early. We can leave this conversation for later today, can’t we?” Minerva’s eyes, dark circles and all, concentrate on the road.

I turn my head to wink at Ginny but she’s already staring out the window. Pansy strokes Lavender’s hand with her thumb, their heads nestle together. I think we all need some sleep.

***

We end up staying in our pajamas all day. With the snow still present but not as persistent as last night, I feel far more cozy than trapped. I’ve always loved the feeling of spending cold days in a warm home. The introvert in me is begging for a full 24 hours of recoup but Lavender wants all the details of last night so after dinner, we all cram into her and Pansy’s room.

For someone who strives on material possessions, Lavender barely has a thing. A poster of the current heartthrob next to her bed with bedding Minerva had on reserve when she got here is just about it, besides her clothes. She talks about the fads like she must have them or she’ll die but I don’t think I’ve ever heard her outright ask for them. Although, she is adamant on picking up the latest issues of those fashion magazines, which is what she’s “reading” on her bed now. Pansy, ever the hostess, quickly jumps up and says she’ll be right back with some tea for everyone.

Ginny brings the communal bean bag chair. I step toward her to steal it but she just sticks her tongue out and slams her body into the chair before I get too close. I fake cry as I sit myself criss-cross on Pansy’s bed.

“What’s the gossip du jour, Lav?” Ginny spreads out all her limbs like a starfish.

“The what?” Lavender doesn’t look up from her magazine, twirling her bottle blonde hair in her fingers. Just add some bubble gum to pop and she’s every stereotype ever.

“Nevermind.”

I squint in her direction, “Didn’t you take a French class in school?”

“Yes, and?”

“Retain anything?”

“Enough to date a French boy if the situation arises.”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe–”

“I brought some–excuse me, Ginny–sugar if anyone wants some! Here’s chamomile for Hermione, green tea for Ginny, decaffeinated black tea for me, and hot cocoa for Lavender.” Pansy sets the tray she used to transport our drinks next to the door as she closes it, “What did I miss?”

“Hermione and Lavender almost killed each other.” Ginny’s bored expression could be seen from space and I wasn’t even looking at her.

Pansy’s “mom sigh” sounds, “I do wish you would be more civil. You’re sisters, we’re supposed to take care of each other.”

“I try to take care of her and she never takes my advice to heart–”

“Because you yelling your opinions at me is ‘advice’.”

“If we’re just going to have a pseudo-family meeting, I’m going to wake up Minerva and make it a real family meeting,” Ginny keeps her promises (and threats) down to the comma so even though she doesn’t act like she’s going to get up and leave the room, all of us immediately stop talking and drink our beverages. “Now, I believe Lavender had a list of questions she wanted to ask the two of you so the floor is yours, Lav.”

Lavender lunges for her pencil and pad of paper that lay under her bed. She clears her throat, “Question One: Where did you and Blaise have sex if everyone else was in the flat too?”

Pansy almost spills her cup while I roll my eyes.

“Lavender! We did no such thing. Hermione and I shared the bed and all the boys slept in the living room.”

“Wait, bed singular? Why do those preppy sods inhabit a place with only one bed?” Ginny sips thoughtfully.

“Blaise told me they don’t plan on staying forever–”

“Thank God.”

“–since they’re only here on business.” Pansy lightly hits my leg for my unneeded comment.

“Why is the whirlwind romance happening to you if you can’t even romance correctly? ‘90’s men want a woman who’ll give him what for! Not a woman who sits and waits.”

“Hold your horses, Lavender. They haven’t even been in a room alone together and you’re already concerned about their sex life?”

“Can we go to the next question, please?” Pansy’s tea is completely gone by this point. Poor girl really doesn’t like to be put on the spot when it comes to personal conversations.

“The rest of my questions hinged on Pansy doing it last night so I have nothing.”

“I’ve got one: What did you guys do all evening? I mean, you were at a bachelor’s flat that wasn’t well furnished at all. It made our place look like a damn palace of personal possessions.”

“Well, the lovebirds played a few rousing games of Go Fish!, Blaise made Theo cook us dinner after he tried to get one of us to do it, what a pig–Theo, not Blaise–, and I read until bedtime.”

“Did Draco leave for the night, or?”

“No, he was there.”

“So, what did he do?”

“I don’t know, I hardly paid him much attention.”

“Hermione and Draco got into a heated argument that, unbeknownst to him, lasted the whole night. She barely let him have a conversation with Blaise and Theo.” Pansy fake sipped from her mug in order to not make eye contact with me.

“OK! Alright,” recalling last night’s events, I can admit I was being a little out of line. I never have to state my opinions, I just love doing it. I can’t help my mouth sometimes. “I can’t stand him. I thought I didn’t care when he insulted me the other night but it turns out I made that the foundation of my opinion on his character.”

“Only you, Hermione.”

“What do you mean, ‘only me’?”

“Most of the people in the world like to give the benefit of the doubt and don’t have a hard rule of first impressions are everything.”

“Whatever, Lavender.” I gulp down what’s left in my mug out of frustration.

Pansy takes my cup along with hers and makes the rounds to collect the others as well. In her most quiet and sugar-coated voice, she says, “I’m sorry Hermione, but I agree with Lavender on this. One of these days someone will catch your eye and then you’ll have to watch your tongue.”

“Are we done verbally abusing me?”

“Oh, oh! Let me get a blow in! Hermione Jean, your poop smells.”

“Ginny, you’re so grotesque! Everyone except Pansy can leave this room now, please.”

“Gladly. Good night.”

I don’t look to see if Ginny has followed me into our room but she seems to be at my heels, leaving the bean bag chair behind. She looks at me but knows the last thing I want to do it talk so we silently get into our beds and she turns the bedside lamp off.

Why do they get a free pass to judge me when I get hounded every time I open my mouth? How is that fair? I’m smart enough to know that my opinions are simply that: mine. I’ve never expected anyone to know and understand my heart down to the exact beat. I know I’m hard to befriend and keep. But I’m not impossible. I’ve been cordial to Theo and downright friendly to Blaise. Just because I refuse to mold myself to the whims of others I’m branded some high maintenance girl.

And, why does Lavender, Miss High Maintenance herself, never get scolded for the scathing words she produces? Is it because she came from a bad home? I still don’t know any specifics of her days before she came to us but I’m sure either she or Minerva told Pansy which is why she looks the other way constantly. At first, I didn’t mind, and I daresay I was overly polite to her when we met. But, she continues to mouth off at every opportunity and when I try to rectify her behavior, the situation reverses back to me like some horrible game of Uno.

I turn under my blankets and sheet until I’m no longer facing the wall. Someone left the blinds up and the curtain is white and thin so the moon is shining through brightly. I look at Ginny who’s staring straight at me.

“What?” I whisper.

Ginny moves from her side to her back, “She was really worried about you and Pansy last night. She didn’t sleep at all. And, she was the one who forced Minerva out of the house so early. As soon as it was light out, she was at her bedroom door practically begging on her knees.”

“Ok, why–”

“She obviously cares about you deeply and sometimes you treat her like a nuisance.”

“I don’t want to talk about how I treat her when she treats me the same way. Why should I change anything about our relationship?”

“I’m just saying. Maybe she’d back off if you did. But anyway, it’s not my job to counsel my sisters into being friends, that’s Pansy’s occupation.”

“She’ll have to quit when she eventually gets hitched to Blaise. She won’t have the time to concern herself with us peasants when she’s atop her ivory tower.”

I hear a scoff to my left, “Mm-hmm.”

“You’re right. Pans would never forget us.”

“Night, Hermes.”

“Sleep tight, Gin.”

***

The rest of Winter melts into Spring with no more surprise visits by Minerva’s old students and their cohorts. Minerva mentioned a Potter who would be arriving within the month but I barely paid much attention to her words. I was nearly finished with my first go of _Hamlet_ to listen closely. It’s still too cold to think about reading outside where I’m usually not disturbed but I’ve gotten better at tuning conversations out.

Pansy has received several letters from her suitor but I think Blaise is making good on his promise to acquire a landline before he asks Pansy out again because it’s been about two weeks since we’ve seen him. Lavender brings him up almost daily. She never asks to know what’s in the letters but I can tell in her eyes that she’s dying to know. Pansy always smiles and blushes while shrugging her shoulders when his name is spoken. She’s usually only soft-spoken around new people but she clams up whenever the phone rings. I’ve never seen her act silly over someone before. She must really like this boy.

His latest letter comes on a surprisingly sunny day. The air is still frigid and the ground is still damp but I’m out the back door with a coat and my book before I’ve properly finished my breakfast. Lavender’s squeals can be heard even through the wood. I’m settled as best I can be against our favorite tree when I spot Ginny running up the hill toward me.

“Be careful! Everything’s still a bit damp.”

“What are muddy knees to the Queen of the Trees?” she yells as she speeds up.

“Such a poet.”

She huffs and puffs over her bent legs once she reaches me, “I’ve been kept in that house for too long. My limbs don’t work like they used to.”

“Spring just started. You’ll get back to your old personal best soon enough.”

“How wet is your butt right now?”

“Completely soaked. How loud was Lavender being?”

“So loud I couldn’t hear myself think.”

I smile at her and continue my reading as she begins to climb the tree. Having this skill is actually what saved her life all those years ago. She was not yet three years old but had enough talent and balance to use the tree next to her house as a ladder to escape her flaming house. She’s always been very agile and precise when it comes to how she moves her body. She’s taller than most girls so I’m to think she’s got a little complex over it. To combat her size, she keeps her hair long even though it always gets in her way. Minerva tried to force her to get a haircut after a few years of letting her grow it out and she screamed until Minerva put the scissors down.

When Ginny arrived at the police station, she was covered in mud from her trek. They found her walking along the road, crying. She was verbal enough to tell them the sentence: My name is Ginny Weasley and I’m a girl. They looked into her surname and it turns out her father and three much older brothers perished in said fire. No one knew if there was a mother to contact so Minerva left in the middle of the night and came home with another sister.

Pansy and I had decided to stay up and wait for Minerva to return since she woke us up to let us know she’d only be gone for fifteen minutes. She came in holding Ginny in one arm, the smell of wood fire very prominent on this little girl. Her hair was cut short and her pajamas had dinosaurs all over them. You could just make them out under the dry mud. Minerva introduced everyone and whisked Ginny away for a needed bath. I’d heard wailed cries saying, “Please don’t tell!” and “Don’t look at me!”, but didn’t think much of it. I was ready to go back to bed.

The next day, over breakfast, Minerva quietly told us Ginny has been raised as a boy her whole life but she’s really a girl and we needed to do our best to treat her like a girl. I thought it was a very silly thing to raise your daughter like a son and agreed to rectify that. She also told us we needed to give Ginny as much privacy as possible when she’s in the bathroom or getting dressed.

It wasn’t until we were much older that words were assigned and conversations were had. Ginny has always been my sister and nothing I could accidentally see or hear will change that.

“Hey Gin, do you ever think you’ll fall in love like Pansy and Blaise?”

“Doubt it.”

I close my book and stare upward, “Do you want to be in love?”

“Well, yeah, but–”

“Then you’ll find someone, someday! You’re much more agreeable than me. I’m sure you’ll be the next one paired off.”

“Fat chance on that.”

She’s so high, I can barely see where she is within the branches. I know why she’s so adamant on not joining the dating scene, and I can’t imagine how she’s feeling, but I just know there’s someone out there for her. She’s hilarious and fierce and the most fun person I’ve ever known. She just has to open herself up to the possibility. Pot, meet kettle.

“Let’s have a wager, shall we? I bet you’ll start dating before me.”

“What do I get when I win?” Ginny had descended partially so now I can see her clearly. Her freckles less noticeable than usual but her eyes as bright as ever.

“Bragging rights?”

“Eh, sure. But I’m afraid no one will win this bet, dear sister,” she extends her leg down so I can shake her foot.

“Let’s see what Summer brings.”

***

Ginny’s left the tree hours ago and the cold is setting in. My butt is numb from sitting on damp roots for the whole day and I’ve been so engulfed in my reading, I’ve missed lunch. I start my brisk walk down the hill when I see a familiar car pull up in front of our house. Blaise probably couldn’t stand to wait even a minute longer to see Pansy again. Both front doors open and Blaise is indeed one of the men exiting the car, but now I have a sudden headache.

I quicken my pace, hoping to get into the house and commandeer the washroom before he can see me. But as I told Ginny, the grass is still very damp. With a yell, I slip and fall onto my knees with my hands helping to cushion the fall, my book thrust forward into a particularly muddy patch of land. I steady myself but refuse to look around in case someone saw me. I don’t want to know. After a few moments, I see a pair of feet stand to my right and feel two hands grip my arms. I’m lifted as if I weigh nothing and steadied well after my legs are back under me properly. I don't dare to look. I’m so embarrassed and I just know Malfoy is the one helping me and I don’t want to see the knowing smirk on his face when I have to thank him.

“All right? Nothing is broken?”

I exhale, “Just my pride.”

Is that a chuckle I hear? I finally look up and I must’ve been hearing things because his face doesn’t look like he’s been laughing at me. He’s got concerned etched into his white marble features. Except his cheeks are dusted in a little pink. Does he have grey eyes?

“Do you need assistance inside, Miss Granger?”

“Nope! No, I got it. If you would just let go of me, I’ll be on my way.”

He clears his throat and releases me from his grasp. I bow my head toward him and turn to leave. I don’t have my book but I don’t care.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

I stop. I straighten up while turning on the spot, “Do you want a parade?”

“No, I do not. A simple acknowledgment of gratitude would suffice,” he crosses his arms.

Why is this guy so unbearable? I take my fake dress in my hands and courtesy deeply, “Oh yes, Mr. Malfoy, I do declare, you have my sincerest acknowledgment of gratitude and I’m vastly sorrowful for not voicing it sooner. Can you ever forgive me, Mr. Malfoy?” I don’t wait for him to answer, I run straight into my house and bypass both Ginny and Minerva to reach the washroom.

I run the water for a shower but mostly to drown out the conversations happening in the other room. I wish Draco Malfoy would disappear. If he wasn’t such an arse I would’ve been more than happy to thank him and maybe we would’ve shared a laugh over my clumsiness. But instead, he makes me make an arse of myself every time we interact.

My shower doesn’t wash away my shame but it helps clear my head.

 


	4. PART 4

Even after the altercation with Hermione, I’m afraid to say I’m stuck in the graces of her family until Blaise decides we get to leave. It’s around supper time so I’m surprised no one’s shoving us out or inviting us to stay for way longer than I want. Hermione’s book she left in the mud feels extra heavy in my hands. Apparently, I don’t know how to have one single, decent conversation with that girl without making her mad at me. And I frankly don’t know why I’d want to! I look to Blaise who’s completely engulfed in conversation with everyone.

I’m merely a pawn in his game of love, I know that. So, when Blaise wanted to drag me along to pay his beloved a visit, I didn’t put up much of a fight. I even sounded a bit upbeat when he asked if I was sure. I need some air, I said, since I’ve been stuck inside looking over numbers all day. I saw Theo catch himself from saying he’d tag along as well since he already expressed zero interest in going before I piped up. He’s becoming stranger and stranger the longer I spend in his company. All the better reason to vacate that barely-large-enough-to-call-liveable flat.

He can’t shut up about his Pansy on the drive there and I might just vomit. I can’t believe I have to traipse across town to watch him woo a woman who I don’t think even likes him that much. Either that or her reaction time is off by a few seconds and if that’s the case, she needs to see a doctor. I appreciate love and what it can bring to life but there are far more important matters to attend. Career and family, for instance, are two very prominent parts of my life that I fear will always come before anything else. And if I don’t have time for my own love life, why do I need to make time for his?

Nevertheless, we arrived at the cottage sized house and he’s out the door before the car has time to shut off properly. Now, I’m someone who genuinely likes to take my time in most things. Deadlines and business commitments prevent me from taking every minute in stride but when I’m on my own time, damn it, I want to stop and smell the roses. And I will, if they’re red roses and close enough to my face so I don’t have to bend over far.

There were no rose bushes to be seen but I noticed a bush of dark hair hiding behind a red covered book. If I was someone like Blaise I’d think, “Close enough.”, and saunter over for a bit of conversation. But I’m Draco Malfoy, and I’ve never initiated a conversation with anyone before. No matter how much I might want to, for some reason. And sometimes I find out the hard way why I never should.

She’s gone before my brain can properly register how close I was holding her, although my hands are buzzing from the contact. I don’t know what it means but I want it to simultaneously cease and continue. I’m standing in place for far too long, attempting to contemplate my feelings, before I remember I should be inside with Blaise. I pick up her book as I go since she seems to expect others to do everything for her. It’s so caked in dirt I can’t tell what she was reading but the once red cover is now permanently brown.

Thankfully whoever let Blaise in kept the door ajar so I quietly entered and clicked the door shut behind me. But I don’t go unnoticed by everyone as they mutter their hello’s. I press my lips together while nodding my head once in their direction. The orange haired one, Ginny, I think, comes from the back of the house and approaches me.

“If that’s Hermione’s book I can take it off your hands.”

She’s about the same height as me, a little shorter, and she shares the lanky frame of someone familiar to me. I can’t quite place whom but her hair color is enough to put me on edge.

“If it’s all the same to you, I was hoping to return it myself. I’m afraid I need to apologize for something, though I don’t know what.”

“I think she said something about heading straight to bed. I’ll just take it and clean it up.”

She steps forward and makes a pass to grab it as I tighten my grip around the spine, but one good yank and it’s out of my possession. I don’t know why I try to be a gentleman, anymore. My father isn’t around to make me so I should just let my emotions run my every decision. It serves Hermione just as well. Who raised this family to be so rude? I didn’t even want to help her, anyway. Or return this book in person, for that matter! My body seems to pull itself to her all on its own. If I wasn’t this way I wouldn’t be staring perplexed at a retreating ginger headed woman.

I feel like I’m going to be sick so I nudge Blaise and ask him without words to take me back to the flat. I can vaguely hear him voice his sincerest apologies as he drags his feet to the entryway. I just have to open the door and we’re home free.              

“While I have you here, Blaise. Hanging out the other night with everyone was so much fun. We should all get together again very, very soon.”

The blonde one is insufferable, I’ve decided. She’s the type of woman I can’t stand. No morals, no boundaries, and no sense of restraint.

“Name the date, Lavender! Just as long as it suits all your sisters.”

I all but push him out the door and toward the car. Night has fallen and I regret all the choices that lead me here.

***

My stomach finally settles down by the next day until Blaise brings it back with news of our evening plans. He steps out of the bedroom and asks me why I’m not dressed yet and I just stare back blankly from the desk.

“I told you last night on the ride home. Do you even listen to me?”

“You know the answer to that question.”

“Ooh, you’re so funny. Now, up you get! Do I have you shoo you like a mother? Go find something you can crouch in.”

“I never properly agreed to anything! Go on your own dates, Zabini!”

“You know I would love to but this is laser tag and you very well can’t have a proper date if you’re stuck on different teams–”

“LASER TAG? Please, tell me you’re joking. Do you know how old we are? Why do I have to be your cohort through this whole process? Why can’t you take Nott instead?” I can’t change the shrillness of my voice and it definitely sounds like I’m panicking.

“I already asked Theo and he said Hermione scares the living shit out of him so he’s out at the bar or something tonight,” Blaise is so nonchalant about every single situation life throws at him. I think he won’t look so calm when I take a lamp and smash it over his stupid–. “Just give me one more night and I assure you every single date past this point will be unchaperoned.”

I’m seething with anger. After yesterday I had decided I wouldn’t be caught anywhere near that family and their displeasurable attitudes. The matriarch can’t teach them how to behave, the blonde one makes me want to gnaw my own arm off, the ginger one gives me the willies, Pansy just makes me think of the hold she has on Blaise, and Hermione leaves me breathless and paralyzed from what I can only categorize as my fight or flight reflex. The only thing I can do to ensure my release from their presence is to force Blaise into a little wager. Suddenly, I’m quite calm.

“I don’t trust you to keep that promise, Zabini. But I’ll play your little game of laser tag and keep your distraction’s impossible sister busy so you can snog her.”

“Aw, thanks mate. I appreciate it–”

“Not so fast, Mr. Zabini. I’ll do this for you because you’re going to do something for me. If you can’t get a clear answer out of Pansy by the end of Spring, we’re leaving and finishing up this job behind the scenes. Got it?” I finish with a sweet smile but he and I both know I mean business.

“What do you mean, ‘clear answer’?”

“Make it official. If you can get her to say she wants to be with you, we’ll stay and I’ll take over your responsibilities so you can galavant around the country with her. You’re hardly doing anything as it is.”

He’s peering at me from the washroom as he styles his hair. His eyes look bright and then concerned.

“Draco, you know I love a good bet, but this involves Pansy and it doesn’t feel right.”

“So, you don’t think you can do it. I see. Well, have a good night!” I start collecting my paperwork.

“I didn’t say that, Malfoy.”

We’re using last names, now? I guess I hit a nerve.

“Well, what are you saying, then?”

“It’s going to be a pleasure to show your soulless heart that love conquers all. You have yourself a deal,” He spits into his hand and extends it toward me. I do the same and regret it the moment our hands let go. “Now get your body ready for neon lights and strategic planning.”

Get ready to lose a bet, Blaise. 

***

I try to greet the women with a sincere smile as they get in the car but it’s really hard. Hermione looks as unhappy to be here as I am. She must really love her sister, or love torturing me. It’s probably the latter. But, speaking of the sister, Pansy doesn’t look too pleased to be here, either. She may be smiling but behind her eyes reads a giant “Help!” sign.

“Now can you tell me why we were supposed to wear comfortable clothes, Blaise?” Pansy’s quiet voice comes from the seat I vacated upon Blaise’s request.

“How do you ladies feel about laser tag?” Blaise says this is a booming voice that’s supposed to evoke excitement but the negative energy I’m getting from this car just dropped further.

“I can say with confidence that I don’t feel anything for laser tag.” And with that, Hermione pulls a book out of her purse and opens it.

“I’ve never been but I hear it’s fun! And I’m sure once we get there, Hermione will put her book away and participate.”

Do mine ears deceive me or do I detect a hint of emotion that wasn’t contentment coming from her tone? I don’t know whether to be flabbergasted or scoff. She better not blow this for me.

I try to sit through the rest of the journey in silence but my mouth has other ideas, namely making an arse of myself.

“So, uh, Miss Granger, do you study literature or is it just a hobby of yours?”

“Clearly I study or my copy of Romeo and Juliet wouldn’t have scribbles all over it. I like to take care of my books.”

Her eyes never leave the pages she’s pretending to read.

“Because throwing it in a puddle is taking care of it.”

I try to be quiet with my comment but I have a big mouth, something my father used to lovingly grind out at me.

“You know what, Malfoy, you can just sod off. I’m only here for my sister, and I hope to high Heaven you’re only here for your friend.”

Dray. Co. Mal. Foy. Why do you speak? It only angers her! “Believe me, this is the last place I want to be right now. I could be back at the flat, being productive.”

“I feel the exact same way. I also wish you were somewhere else.”

I’m going to take myself out back and put me out of my misery. That’s the only way I can bring her any semblance of joy and relieve myself of any feelings I might have toward her. I want to leave and never return, yet also stay by her side. I’ll throw myself out of this car within the next minute.

***

We pull up to the trashy looking establishment with everyone seated safely inside the vehicle, unfortunately. Bright red, flashing signs reaffirm that we are indeed about to spend our night shooting each other with plastic guns. Blaise runs over and opens Pansy’s door for her, extending his hand out for her to take. Her smile is totally forced. I don’t understand how men and women think they need to act a certain way around each other just because they’re trying to mate. And I use that phrase because is that not what we do this ritual for? It’s a waste of time.

Hermione walks on the opposite side of the couple and enters the building first, the book still in her hand like some high-end clutch purse I’ve seen women use at galas.  She’s sporting her ever-present overalls that I’m positive she never washes since I don’t see her without them. The same sweater tied around her waist with the same white tee shirt and shoes. Is she a secret cartoon character? One from the shows I find Luna watching from time to time.

The inside matches the outside in terms of cleanliness. Stains mark the black light activated carpet and several lights flicker or have gone out completely. This is the last place I would choose to bring a date to. Blaise takes Pansy up to the counter with him to set everything up. Hermione stands as far away from me as she can, and has decided to continue to read, propping herself against the glass of a small room with arcade games inside. The black light glow on Hermione’s shirt makes her skin look even darker than usual.

I spy a claw machine located just behind her and it takes me back to my childhood, or rather Luna’s childhood. She used to beg me to play it for her to win something. Father hated such childish things but gave Luna everything her heart desired. I wonder what it was like to live in hypocrisy because of love? I, for one, secretly loved feeling important to my sister so it didn’t matter what I had to do to make her smile. I feel some coins jingle in my pocket and slink my way toward the scam machine.

Now, there’s a trick to these things. You can’t show fear and you have to act like you don’t actually want what you’re trying to get. They all can sense when your life depends on getting or not getting your prize. After three tries, I kick it.

“Come on! I had it that time!”

“Having a little trouble there, Malfoy?”

I hear snide happiness in her tone. Gotta love a woman who gets pleasure from my pain. That’s why my parents were together until death do they part.

“This machine is rigged!”

“They’re all like that! That’s the whole point of their existence!”

“Whatever! I didn’t want to win anything, anyway.”

“You clearly did! Which plush caught your eye? The really generic looking pink bear you could pawn off as a Care Bear? The creepy clown a la The Poltergeist in the back? Off-brand Pikachu?”

“It was the Troll doll with the hot pink hair. Luna loves them.”

Hermione had to get on tiptoes to see it, they really decided to bury that thing deep.

“Those things scare me. I didn’t think I’d find anyone who actually liked them.”

“She’s a peculiar one, my sister.”

“I thought you said she was ‘perfect’?”

It appears that her voice is trying to patronize me but instead it sounds more like teasing.

“You misunderstand me. I merely–.”

“All right, guys. Looks like they have a birthday party in there right now but we can go get our gear on now if you want.”

Blaise to the rescue, apparently. I have no way of knowing how the conversation would unfold but with Hermione, it’s never good. I cross my arms and turn to Blaise to ask what kind of paperwork this death trap made him sign but Hermione grabs my arm.

“Give me your coins.”

“I thought you said their whole existence is meant to scam everyone?” Nevertheless, I handed her some silver change and was given her book in their place. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott this time.

“You misunderstand me.”

She puts the coins in the little slot and shakes out her whole body, starting with her fingers. Her eyes close and she breathes in deeply. Moments pass and I’m beginning to think she took my money just to waste it in the machine but then her eyes fly open and she grabs the joystick. You couldn’t break her concentration even if you tried. Her knees were slightly bent and her hair looked wilder than usual. I don’t know how it happened, but she accomplishes what I couldn’t. She jumps up in triumph and grabs the ugly doll from the prize section.

“You really are something, Hermione.”

“Thank you, Blaise! Here you go, Malfoy. No acknowledgment of gratitude required.”

The euphoria of a well-deserved win must be taking over her speech because again, her words should be harsher than they come. I trade her book for Luna’s new doll but she doesn’t wait for me to say anything. I roll the atrocious thing in my hand. She really is something.

***

As much as I like to think I’m better than this dump of a business, I’ll put our differences aside in the name of competition. I’m an amazing strategist, I should be in charge of a war plan. That being said, I’m going to be the King of Laser Tag by the end of this night. And Hermione will be my Queen, but only because we were forced to be on the same team since Blaise won’t let Pansy breathe without him.

But Blaise is weak with budding young love and there’s nothing on our team that would distract us from the task at hand, so they’re going down. I only wish Hermione would share the same enthusiasm.

“Shoot him! Shoot him! Why is it so hard for you to aim properly?”

“My apologies, General Malfoy! Women shouldn’t be in the middle of a war, you know!”

I don’t know how anyone can have a good time when you have to yell your plans at your teammates over the horribly loud pop music blaring from the speakers.

“I know you don’t mean that! Now, remember what I told you! Blaise favors his left side after he’s had a few drinks, which he absolutely has!”

Now, break on three. One, two, three, GO!

“Does he always drink?”

Oh, bloody hell.

“No, of course not! He’s a very respectable man! You sister just makes him nervous!”

“Aw! That’s so sweet! A horrible habit, but I can’t wait to tell Pansy when we get home–.”

“Alright, you lose your gun privileges! Give it here!”

I don’t know how what I said was funny but Hermione just looks at me and lets out a laugh I can hear over the music.

“Why are you so serious all the time? It’s just a game!”

“A game I can win if you just stop laughing and give me your gun!”

“I will do no such thing! You’re just going to have to figure out how to be a graceful loser!”

If she wasn’t on my team, I would shoot her right here and now. Then again, even though she is on my team, she’s basically dead weight. I quietly step back and take my aim to her crouched figure. Lord, forgive me for my treachery. But before I can pull the trigger, Hermione whips around and dives around me to shoot Blaise square in the chest. He dramatically falls backward and spasms. Pansy runs to his side and laughs as he pulls her close to whisper his last goodbye, I’m sure. Hermione shoots Pansy while she’s not paying attention and with that, the lights come on and the music shuts off.

“How could you shoot my beloved as she was crying over my corpse! Stone cold, Hermione.”

“All’s fair in love and war. And I didn’t even have to commit treason to win.”

The euphoria of a well-deserved win isn’t taking over her speech anymore; her words sound as harsh as they can come. 

*** 

The trip back is silent. When we pull up to their home, Hermione bolts and slams the door behind her. Blaise gives me a look before walking Pansy up to the door. Don’t think I don’t notice her present her cheek instead of giving Blaise a real good night kiss. He must be sour about her departure methods too because he approaches the car again with a scowl.

“Don’t worry, Zabi–”

“You know what, Draco, just don’t talk. I don’t want to talk.”

He starts the car and begins to pull onto the dirt road.

“Why am I in trouble because the girl you fancy won’t give you a proper kiss?”

“What are you on about? You think that’s why I’m angry right now?”

“What else would have your knickers all twisted?”

“You’re so oblivious, mate. And you think I’m the one who can’t take a hint.”

He scoffs while pulling onto the main road of this small town.

“I’M oblivious? Do enlighten me.”

“I bet you wonder why every time you’re done interacting with Hermione, she’s mad. I bet you can’t figure out how on earth that keeps happening. I bet you’ve decided she’s just an impossible woman who you only have to put up with until this job is over. I bet you made our bet to ensure your escape had a set date. And I bet you’re attempting to sabotage my budding relationship to get your way!”

Four out of five.

“Don’t push agendas onto me or put motives in my head. Your ‘budding relationship’ isn’t going anywhere because she’s clearly not interested! Her body language says it all!”

“That’s because when she’s around you, she’s uncomfortable. And whenever Hermione is upset, she can’t focus on much else. You’re not right as much as you think you are.”

I sculpt the Troll’s hair into a swirl as Blaise turns the car off and sets out and into the flat. He’s absurd. I don’t think I’m right all the time but I do think my opinions are based on facts. Pansy may like Blaise just fine but she won’t bring him any more happiness than another girl in better standing. Marrying into this family would be suicide. Theo is a queer person whom I’ll never understand. The blonde one is a waste of time and effort to be around. Hermione is strong minded in the worst way with impossible standards etched into her demanding voice. I still can’t place the ginger one but I’ll be looking into my opinion of her when I get home. Home. I miss my sister.


	5. PART 5

I never cry unless I’m very frustrated. I can’t stop the tears when they want to come. The last time it happened, I was in my maths final trying to tap my brain for all the things I crammed into it the night before. Fueled by many cups of coffee and a whopping one hour of sleep, I stared at the numbers and letters through blurry eyes. No equation I used gave me an answer that made sense. I started silently losing my sanity halfway through the test. I barely scraped by that class with a passing mark and I’m at least smart enough to know I didn’t even deserve that. No matter how long I forced myself to think about it, I could never understand anything harder than basic equations. And Draco Malfoy is like calculus to me. 

I make it into the house and manage to close my bedroom door before Pansy can catch up to me. My eyes are like hot gushers finally succumbing to the underground pressure. I slide down my side of the door and ball my fists while pressing them to my forehead. I will always hate trying to make nice with people I know I can’t get along with. I can’t find any similarities I can latch onto for Pansy’s sake. 

“Hermione? Sweetheart? I’m so sorry.”

I struggle to breathe in and wipe my nose before turning slightly toward the door, “Don’t worry about it, Pans. It’s not your fault he’s an impossible git.”

“But it is my fault you have to keep being in his presence.”

“She has a point,” Ginny rolls over in her bed and turns the lamp on.

In all my haste to distance myself from the situation, I forgot how late it was and how thin our walls are. Everyone’s probably up by now with the way I slammed my door.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up, Gin,” I sniff out as I climb off the floor to open the door.

Pansy is in my arms before I can truly register anything. A hug from her is rare and only given if you’re really in need of it. That being said, her hugs are the best. So reassuring and safe, with just the right amount of pressure engulfing you. The feeling alone has the potential to make more tears come forward begging to be in on the embrace.

“Please forgive me, ‘Mione. I never meant to cause you this much turmoil. You don’t have to go on any more of my dates with Blaise. I relieve you of your buffer duties.” 

Her face is mashed into my neck and hidden completely in my hair. This woman was my very first friend and my second defender. No matter how mad I get, that could never translate into life without Pansy. 

“Oh, thank God!”

We both shake each other with our laughter. Pansy tentatively lets me go and looks over at Ginny perching herself up in bed, watching our conversation unfold. 

“Oh, Ginny! I’m sorry we woke you! Does anyone need any tea to get to sleep?”

“No, Mother Pansy. If you two could just disperse quietly, I’ll get back to sleep just fine,” the smile planted on Ginny’s face didn’t look friendly in the slightest so Pansy quickly ducked out of the room and closed the door.

I step lightly to our dresser and pull out a pair of Ginny’s old basketball shorts and grab the jumper from my bed, “I’m sorry, again, Gin. You know how I get when I’m emotional.”

“Yep. Not unlike a loose horse with blinders on,” she leans to turn the lamp off.

Even with the double obstacle of pulling the garment over my head and coming out to complete darkness, I could still hear how proud she was of her joke.

“Do you live in the turn of the 19th Century? What kind of analogy is that?”

“Sshh, Ginny’s sleeping.”

“Whatever!” I laugh as I get under the blankets of my bed.

Our fancy digital alarm clock says it’s just after midnight but after crying I always get this overwhelming sense of determination. I know that’s such a strange trait to possess but with it, I learned how to ride a bicycle without training wheels in one day. I’m not discouraged when the task in front of me can be completed. Not that befriending Draco Malfoy seems like an attainable checkmark on a list. I suppose if Blaise and Pansy get more serious I can decide to participate in conversations with him again but until then I resign to polite silence. No words will escape my mouth in his direction unless he speaks to me personally.

“You still awake, Herms? I have two theories.”

“Lay them on me.”

“Theory the first: Pansy needed you as a buffer because she didn’t really like Blaise in the beginning.”

“In this theory, does she like Blaise now?”

“Jury’s still out on that part. Now, theory the second–”

“Wait, do you think she doesn’t actually like him?”

Ginny turns the lamp back on and sits up while crisscrossing her legs. 

“From what I've observed, she doesn’t look all that interested in him,” she whispers out.

“You’re not exactly with her whenever she’s with him so how can you come to that conclusion?” it’s my turn to sit up and situate myself accordingly.

“OK, then. Sub-theory: Pansy doesn’t show, with her body language, that she’s into Blaise in any way, platonic or otherwise.”

Ginny quirks an eyebrow at me like she knows her point has been made and I’m ready to open my mouth and debate but I close it just as fast. During her dates, I’ve tried to give them privacy. Their pseudo-first date at the pub looked promising and I chucked her rigidness up to the atmosphere. The second date at their flat was just completely awkward on all fronts and neither of us had a great time. But this last date, they were having fun together! Or, maybe that was primarily Blaise, whose laugh I could hear over that ghastly music. 

“Oh my God. She never truly wanted to be alone with him, did she?”

“It’s just a theory! We don’t know for sure! If it is true, someone needs to tell her it’s OK to turn him down. But if it’s not true, you need to tell her to step up before he gets bored and moves on.” 

Ginny sounds like Lavender with that sentiment but I dare not say that to her face. Instead, I wave her off the subject.

“Yeah, I can talk to her before their next date. Give me the second theory, professor,” I stifle a yawn and lay back down. Ginny takes the cue and turns the lamp off for the second time.

“I almost don’t want to say it because it might rile you up.”

“Then say it really fast so I can barely hear it and then you’ll feel better but I won’t fully understand what you truly said and we can go to sleep,” I joke.

“IthinkPansyplanneddoubledatesbecauseshewantsyouandMalfoytogettogethergoodnight!”

I cough out a strained laugh and ask Ginny to repeat herself. She doesn’t.

***

Back when we were smaller, Pansy, Ginny, and I used to pretend we had secret magic powers. We’d band together, doing twirls around the yard, and vanquishing all evil-doers. I was the leader and I had a gold griffin named Dora as my Familiar. Ginny went through a phase where she wanted everything I had so she had a griffin too but I made her make hers red and call it Doris. Pansy had a green basilisk which she called Rin and together we yelled laser noises and screamed our own explosions from dawn until dusk. And even though I can manage to make some fantasy genre books hold my attention, I’ve never felt as engaged as I did when we made up our own stories. 

“What are you thinking about over there, Miss Hermione?” Pansy hums at me from across the table during breakfast. Everyone is still in their pajamas because that’s our households tradition on Saturday’s. We’re missing our maternal figure this weekend since she’s in her final days of the term at work. In the weeks leading up to a big break, we scarcely see her. 

“Remember when we used to run through the yard shrieking about magic and always doing the right thing?”

“Oh my God, and you and I had matching mythical pets because you always had to copy me!” 

I shake my head as Ginny winks at me while placing her plate in the sink. 

“You two were as thick as thieves. It’s a wonder how I even got included in your games.”

“And history repeats itself…” Lavender stage whispers from the sink like she’s begging for everyone to hear. She hip-checks Ginny before she can get too far away. 

“Ouch, Lav!” Ginny’s a very good actress when she wants to be. But it only works on people who don’t know her well.

“Oh, sod off! How dare you give me more work to do! I swear you wait until it’s my turn to do chores and then you react in kind!” Lavender, however, is not a good actress. She wears her feelings proudly, albeit in a different way than others. You can always tell when she’s upset and what caused it. Talking about our lives before we met her is an easy way to ruin the rest of her day. I always seem to be the one who forgets how sensitive she is.

Ginny gets down on one knee and holds up a fake skull, “Forgive me, Lady Lavender, for bestowing too many dishes upon you on this day!”

“Just get away from me before I kick you.” 

Ginny tucks and rolls out of the reach of Lavender’s flailing right leg, “If you losers need me, I’ll be setting up some makeshift nets in the backyard.”

“Please don’t get too muddy!” 

“Sorry, can’t hear you! I’m too far away and in my room, now!”

“Don’t fret, Pans. The mud is mostly gone.”

“Ginny makes her own mud.” Pansy points a stern finger at me with a smile on her lips.

 “Wow, Hermione, for being so close to Ginny, I’m surprised you didn’t realize that.” Lavender stays facing the sink and acts like she didn’t say anything at all. I’m not a violent person but I wish I was given free rein to, at least, thump her on the forehead.

“That’s enough, Lavender. I know you know words hurt.” 

No acknowledgment from the sink.

“Now, Minerva left a grocery list for us and I asked Blaise if he could take me into town, and I was going to ask one of you to come along but I think you should spend some time together instead.” Pansy gets up and puts her dishes in the sink without looking at either of us.

“No, thank you. I was going to spend my day tanning in what little sun we get.”

“And I was going to finish Moby Dick–,” I stop mid-sentence, perplexed, “Why would you tan when you’re already as dark as I am?”

Lavender drains the sink and dries her hands on a towel nearby, “It’s called ‘maintenance’, dweeb.”

“You’re naturally that dark! Your skin color doesn’t need to be maintained.”

“Well, opinions of melanin aside, I’m sure you two can do your activities adjacent to each other while I’m gone.” 

I’m sure we could, but we won’t. I nonchalantly peek at Lavender while I swig down the last of my coffee and she looks like she’d like to light something on fire with her mind. She would’ve been a great addition to our cult of witches.

***

I have a lot of feelings about the season of Spring. It’s all about restarting the life cycle and finally feeling the sun’s warmth after all those freezing months that preceded. And, I love all the flowers and the feeling that something’s about to begin. But, my once quiet life of being cuddled under a blanket while listening to the rain silence everything is stripped from me with every bird that squawks at the first second of daylight. I get itchy for the sun as much as the next Northern European but it comes with a hustle and bustle I’m not fond of participating in. 

Outdoor gatherings for the whole family along with the entire neighborhood come with Spring. 

So, I hide as long as possible. Wherever is away from the crowd is best. And, with Ginny kicking a football around a tanning Lavender behind the house, being inside seems like the best location. I’m freshly washed, wearing something that probably doesn’t match by Lavender’s standards and Pansy just left for her pseudo-date to the market. I find my favorite spot in our sitting room as soon as I’m curled up, there’s a knock on the door. I groan.

“Hold on, I’m coming!” I stumble toward the door in my haste. 

Flinging the door open without a second thought, I’m met with two men I’ve never seen before. The first man is around my height so I focus on him first. He has quite an odd combination of green eyes and dark skin and he also seems like the most harmless person to walk this Earth. Who actually wears their sweater tied around their shoulders?

“Hello, Miss. I’m not sure if I got the house number wrong or anything but, perchance, does a Minerva McGonagall live here?”

I blink rapidly before my mouth lets me speak, “Yes, she does. But she won’t be back for a few days. May I, um, leave some sort of message for when she gets back?”

“She’s not here? I could’ve sworn she said I was to come today. Excuse me, Miss, but do you have the day?” The man pushes his glasses up by the bridge with his index finger. 

“Mate, you fucked us!” 

I turn my attention from Carlton in the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air to his much taller cohort who’s simultaneously dipped in leather and covered in rips. I’m skeptical of his intentions immediately. He looks like someone I wouldn’t be able to keep Lavender away from.

“Sorry, love, but this one can’t read a calendar correctly.” The ginger punk hits the shorter man on the back of the head, making his hair even messier.

“It’s no trouble at all! Um, would you like me to call her and confirm anything?” I step aside and give them room to come into the house. 

The Harmless One sighs a relief that even I can feel, “That would be wonderful, Miss..?”

“Oh! Hermione Granger. Make yourselves comfortable and I’ll give her a ring.” I close the door and walk toward our phone. Mr. Prim and Proper seats himself neatly on our sofa while Mick Jagger leans against the arm with his whole weight.

“Oi, Hermione! Where’s the loo?”

“Just down the hall. Be my guest.”

I shake my uneasiness while I twirl the dial around with my finger. Minerva picks up on the third ring.

“Yes, this is Professor McGonagall speaking.”

“Minerva, it’s Hermione.”

“Has something happened?”

“Um, yes? There are two young men here for you.”

I hear a giggle from her end, “Hermione, dear, this is a very strange telephone call.”

“Well, this is a very strange situation I’m in!” I whisper into the receiver.

“Calm yourself. Who are these young men in question?”

Oh, bollocks, I never asked their names. “One moment,” I clear my throat and hold the phone against my chest. “Excuse me, I’m so sorry, but, what are you called?”

The Epitome of Manners bolts out of our sofa and marches himself toward me with determination, “My deepest apologies, Miss Hermione! How could I have been so rude? My name is Harry Potter. And my friend over there is Ron W–.”

Dangerous and Loving It breezes into the hallway and cuts Harry off, “Just Ron, mate. I’m trying something out.” Ron runs a hand through his barely-there hair.

I wordlessly nod, mouth agape. I bring the receiver back to my ear, “It’s Harry Potter and Ron.”

A squeal of delight sounds from the other end, “Oh, Harry came early! I wasn’t expecting him until after finals! Oh, blast and drat, our house is certainly not prepared for him and his friend. Hermione, be a dear and put Harry on the phone, please.”

Harry smiles politely at me and I try to mirror his expression as I hold the phone out to him, “She’d like to talk to you.”

“Of course, of course,” he takes it and starts apologizing profusely for getting the dates of his visit mixed up. It’s at this point when I realize I’ve had a ratted blanket pulled around my shoulders during this whole encounter so I shrug it off when I get back into the sitting room. Ron’s taken my hospitable suggestions to heart as he’s removed a family portrait from one of our shelves and has brought it to the sofa to lounge with.

“So, Hermione, where’re your sisters?”

As if on cue, Lavender, in her hot pink bikini, comes through our back door. Her sunglasses sit on top of her blonde head and her towel and magazines are held in one hand with her Walkman and headphones in the other.

“Hermione, Ginny and I saw a car pull up.”

“Oh, it’s–”

Ron jumps up the moment Lavender comes fully into view. I thought he had his wits about him, so to speak. I thought he was a man that could never be spooked or caught off guard. He seemed the type to have a permanent suaveness but that appeared to vanish. 

“Hello. I’m Ron.” he takes a few steps toward Lavender and makes to take her hand to kiss it, but in doing so he gets tangled in the cords of her headphones.

Lavender giggles, “Hey, Ron. My name’s Lavender.”

“Lavender? I love lavender.”

She quirks an eyebrow at him, their hands still entwined. 

“I mean–. What I meant was–. The flowers! I like them.”

“Mhm.” Lavender smiles as she chucks the contents of her left hand onto the sofa so she was free to untangle Ron’s hand, “So, is there a reason why you’re so dressed up, or–?”

I duck back into the hallway to check on Harry and give those two their privacy.

“Many apologies, again, Professor, for intruding on your abode. Yes. Yes. All right. I’ll let them know. Sure thing, Professor. See you soon,” he hangs up the phone and almost runs into me as he turns. “Oh! Hello, again, Hermione.”

“Hi, Harry.” What a strangely chipper man. “What did Minerva say?”

Harry blinks a few times and then realizes he knows the answer to my question, “Oh, right! Professor McGonagall meant for myself to come and visit next weekend but I came today and she’s out of town preparing for her finals but she hoped I would stay until she got back so, and I’m so sorry to intrude myself, I will be commandeering your sitting room for the time being.” 

Oh. My God. I had an off feeling the moment I opened that door but this is worse than I could have ever predicted. 

“Well! That’s all right, then. Did you need any help bringing your bags in or anything?” I hope my forced smile looks sincere.

“Oh, no need, Hermione. But, thank you, all the same.”

“OK! Then, you can make yourself at home!” I take his arm and walk him toward the front door. “Lavender, why don’t you go get changed while Harry and Ron get their bags from their car.”

The look she gives me is so defiant, so challenging, but I’m ready to scream and I’ll do it right in her face if I have to. 

“Actually, I’m fine–”

I let go of Harry’s arm and cross to Lavender with three strides. I step between her and Ron and pull her with me toward our bedrooms. Once we’re out of sight, I shove her in the direction of her and Pansy’s room.

“Those boys will be here all week so you have plenty of time to dress like Julia Roberts before she met Richard Gere,” Lavender tries to scoff and I can tell I embarrassed her with my comparison. She trades her usual yelling or physical abuse in for eye-rolling and arm crossing as she walks away. 

***

 I find Ginny dribbling her football without a care in the world. She’s always so composed; I wish she’d been the person to greet those home invaders.

“We have guests.” I fake sob out to make her laugh.

“Yeah, we saw the car pull up, but I didn’t feel like stopping Lavender from investigating.” Ginny smiles in a playful way and passes me the ball. I end up having to run after it.

“Thanks for that.” I throw the ball back to her and she catches it with her chest and lets it roll down to her feet.

“It was my absolute pleasure. Now, spill.”

“Oh my God, OK. So, apparently, Minerva invited one of her old students to come and visit?”

“Her precious Harry Potter, yeah. That’s next weekend, right?”

“It’s right now, actually. He just showed up with his friend, Ron, who doesn’t have a last name for some suspicious reason I’m sure. But, wait, how did you know he was even coming?”

“Contrary to what you hear, and how you feel about social gatherings, Minerva does tell us about events before they occur.”

I stick my index fingers in my ears, “La, la, la, I can’t hear you!”

“Sod off!” But, she’s laughing as she kicks the ball just out of the reach of my outstretched arms.

The back door opens to reveal a newly changed Lavender, Ron, and Harry as she finishes up her house tour.

“And this is our backyard! We even have ourselves a hill.” Lavender gestures like a game show host, “And this is the third sister, Ginny.” 

Ginny makes her way toward the bunch as I do the same, albeit much slower. Something’s wrong with her face when she looks at Ron but it’s barely noticeable and could be blamed on the sun.

“Hey, lads. I’m Ginny.” she extends her hand for a greeting and Harry grabs it without question, vigorously shaking her hand with both of his. 

“An absolute pleasure, Miss Ginny! This house sure is something, isn’t it, Ron?”

Ron, whose arm was draped around Lavender’s shoulders, didn’t answer his friend. He was staring, slack-jawed, at Ginny. Lavender notices the exchange and clears her throat in a threatening way.

“I like your hair, mate. I don’t meet many gingers unless they’re relatives, o’course.”

“Yeah, you’re the first I’ve ever seen.” 

I know not every white person looks the same but it’s hard not to notice a resemblance between them. Freckles sprinkle their skin and their builds are quite similar. I wonder if Ron could be some distant relative to Ginny from her past. And I think she’s thinking the same thing.

*** 

The five of us spent a good hour or so making small talk under our biggest tree. I was thankful for Lavender’s need for the attention of men because I didn’t have to really participate in the conversation. But, without a book, I was playing with blades of grass.

“All right, Hermione?” Ron calls from the trunk where he’s leaning with Lavender between his legs.

“Me? Oh, yeah. Don’t worry yourself.” 

“She’s in a crisis because she hasn’t read a book in a whole hour!” Lavender sticks her tongue out at me when I whip my head up.

“Ha, ha. Very funny.” I throw my grass pieces in her direction.

“What do you like reading?” Ron gives me a small smile over Lavender’s head.

“Most things, really. Romance, the classics, mysteries, history, and even fantasy on occasion.” I hug my legs to my chest and realize this is the first time I’m looking around at the group in front of me since we sat down to chat.

“Nice. I’m a comic book guy myself.” 

I kept the straightest face I could muster as I saw Lavender visibly cringe at his remark. Even dressed the way he is, he can’t keep his true personality bottled up. Lavender probably hoped he was dangerous and full of mystery but it looks like he’s a nerd trying to reinvent himself. Not that I particularly care about his agenda.

“Well, this is fun but I want to do some more drills before Pansy returns from the store and makes us do things.”

Harry bolts up alongside Ginny. He’s been looking at mostly her since their first encounter and I feel a little sorry for him, to be honest. He looks like the type of guy who follows you around like a puppy the moment you return a smile. Better Ginny than myself, I think, but I’m sure we’d have a laugh later tonight, all the same. 

“May I be of assistance, Miss Ginny?”

I fully expect her to blow him off but when I look at her face, she’s wearing a shy smile.

“Um, yeah, if you want. Have you played football before?”

“We watch it on the telly all the time!”

They start their way down the hill and toward her homemade nets resting on the far side of the house. Ginny laughs at his answer.

“I’m only going to say this once: they’re actually pretty cute. You know, when you don’t look at them too closely.”

“Lavender, that was rude.”

“Augh! Fine! They’re cute, period.”

“No, no, ew! I didn’t mean that part. I meant when you initially said they were cute. Oh, no offense, Ron. I know he’s your friend and all.”

“None taken. We’re not that close. And, I always thought he was queer.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, he and Theo really get on well and you’d have to be blind and deaf to not see how Theo looks at other men...”

Wait, what? “How do you know Theo?”

“We all come from money. Well, they do. My mum likes to think we’re rich but the Malfoy’s were just very kind to us since before I could remember.”

“The Malfoy’s? You know Draco?” Lavender pipes up.

“How can I not? He’s so...present wherever I go. He likes to stick his nose in everything.” Ron breaks a twig between his fingers. “How’d you meet him?”

“We just met him about a month and a half ago? Is that right, Hermione?”

“Yeah, his mate Blaise is dating our sister Pansy.” 

“Woof. Good luck with that. I’ve known Zabini all my life and he’s never properly been faithful to a girl. Don’t worry! He’s not a cheater or anything. He’s just fickle.”

“Hmm.” I frown.

“I said not to worry, Hermione. I haven’t even met your Pansy. She could be The One.” Ron’s assuring smile is very contagious.

“And there’s the couple, now. Oh, Ronnie, come with me and help them bring the groceries in?” Lavender has hopped up and tugs on Ron’s hands.

“You go ahead and warn him of my being here. I don’t want to blindside the boy with my presence.” Ron smiles broadly up at her pouting face. But she let’s go and skips toward the car pulling up. Ron stands up and stretches against the tree. “Tell me, Hermione. Are we in agreement over Draco Malfoy?”

“That depends. What’s your assessment?” I put a hand over my eyes as a gaze upward at him.

“He’s a right git.”

“Then I would have to confirm that yes, we are in agreement over Draco Malfoy.”

“Brilliant! It would be a waste for someone as smart as you to get stuck in his web.” He holds out his hand for me to take. 

“What do you mean by ‘his web’?”

“I mean, he has a lot of influence. Usually, the people closest to him end up finding a reason not to like me. And I like you, Hermione. I would hate it if you didn’t like me.” 

I take his hand and he brings me to a standing position. I don’t understand what kind of motive some random guy without a surname and an outfit that can’t mask his “true” personality would have but I’m slowly beginning not to care. He seems like the first person I’ve met this year that I could see being a real friend to me. I can already see us reading silently in the same room. 

He looks down at me smiling up at him and before I know it, I’m being twirled around and then pulled down the hill alongside him. 

***

 Pansy and Blaise look like the picture-perfect newlyweds as I watch them put everything they bought where it needs to go. But, Ron’s words knock on my brain and it taints the scene a little bit. Blaise can’t be so careless as to pursue someone as reserved as Pansy and not think about the long term, right? It takes a lot for her to open up the way she is with him. But then, if Ginny’s words are true and she doesn’t even like him more than normal, we don’t have a problem. We’d simply have two people who’re using each other to not feel so alone. And, is that so wrong? 

The boys clasp hands in greeting and Blaise takes the piss out of Ron for his outfit. I know Blaise to be a kind person, and even if he’s close with Draco and if what Ron said is true, he doesn’t show any malicious behavior toward him. Draco can’t be that powerful a personality to convince people to keep out Ron socially. I like to think he’s, at least, reasonable.

My confusion is reason alone to never let anyone else’s opinions overshadow my own. Draco Malfoy is a pretentious man, and I’m free to dislike him as I please. Pansy and Blaise are a very adorable couple and I think they’re both true in their feelings. There. No one else can convince me otherwise!

“Lavender mentioned Harry’s here as well! Where is the old chap?”

“He’s out back with Ginny, flirting.”

“It’s disgusting.”

“Hermione! Bite your tongue!”

“I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

“Mr. Prim Potter’s getting his flirt on? Now, this I have to see! Take me to them, Ron.” Blaise links arms with Ron and leads him toward the back door. As soon as they’re out of sight, Lavender starts chatting Pansy’s ear off about how sweet Ron is and how he promised to properly take her out sometime this week. I roll my eyes and make to follow the boys back out but stop short when I find they’re still in the house.

“–what you’re up to but stop it, Weasel.”

“What do you mean, Zabini? I’m just accompanying my mate, Harry, as he visits his old mentor.”

“Don’t play dumb. I know you’re up to something fishy. And, I will find out what it is.”

“Why don’t you go back to your girl? Or, are you tired of her already?”

“Leave this family alone.”

“Make me.”

Someone was shoved but I don’t know who. That altercation was obviously not for me to hear. I turn right around and head back to the kitchen. Lavender is still enthralled in her own praising of a man she met only two hours ago. 

“I’m going back outside so Ron doesn’t forget about me.” She grins and giggles as she sweeps past me. 

“So, did you and Lavender get along while I was gone?” Pansy seats herself at the table with a pad of paper and a pen, starting a new grocery list to accommodate the two new mouths.

“Ron and Harry were pretty good buffers. We spent a whole hour in each other’s company without arguing.”

“I’m so proud of you two.”

“I don’t like when Minerva’s gone. You’re too good at being a mum.”

Pansy’s lost in her list-making, “That’s nice, dear.” But, then looks up and squints her eyes shut with a smile.

“Oh? She’s got jokes?”

“Thank you! I’ll be here all week!”

“God! I can’t believe we have to coexist for a whole week with two strangers.”

“Ron seems likable. And, I haven’t met Harry but if Ginny’s taken a liking to him then I trust him.” I make a face at the mention of a potential courtship. “What, do you not like them in a Draco way? Or is it more like in a sports way?”

“Definitely neither. I like Ron more than Harry. Ron seems more real and put together than poor Harry, who is a walking mess.” I stage whisper, “He’s a giant nerd.”

Pansy rolls her eyes, playfully, “He can’t be so bad. Since when have nerds been dangerous?”

“Then, they’re due!”

“Has anyone ever told you about your tendency to overthink?”

“Not recently, no.”

My head’s actually killing me from all the thinking I’ve been doing today.


End file.
